


Decision

by SelenaEstella



Series: Prompted works [6]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aged-Up Character, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 09:38:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelenaEstella/pseuds/SelenaEstella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Done for a Tumblr prompt: black Eridan/Tavros</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decision

**Author's Note:**

> (I am rubbish at choosing titles.)
> 
> Original prompt: black Eridan/Tavros in which Eridan being shorty mc short pants causes some issue or another?

Your name is ERIDAN AMPORA.

And this ISN’T WORKING.

Admittedly, you never _could_ have seen it working and Past You certainly didn’t. The idea of having Tavros Nitram in _any_ quadrant had sounded (and still does sound) completely bizarre. And the thought of him being in _anyone’s_ black had been (and still is) laughable. If someone had told Past You that in less than a sweeps time, your kismesis was to be a brownblood cripple, you would have laughed solidly for about ten minutes before blasting them into the afterlife with Ahab’s Crosshairs.

But it had been a long time before you’d last seen him, hunched over in his four wheeled device, tripping over his words and barely able to get a whole sentence out when trapped beneath your gaze. Maybe it had started then, for you at least. Maybe not. It doesn’t matter now.

But in the period after you’d met for the last time, before adolescence, before Conscription, and before you took your rightful place as fucking Captain of Fleet 413… something about him had changed.

The obvious part was the legs. Kinda hard to miss, especially the way they shine in any light and make him sound like a one-man band whenever he walks. But the rest of his body has altered too, like your own had but far more, somehow. Lowbloods are meant to be gifted with psychic strength, not muscle, and yet somehow – possibly something to do with the upper body strength he must’ve developed as a kid – he had developed both.

He no longer carries himself as if his whole body is a burden – he stands strong, tall, shoulders broad and straight. And when he had knocked you to the floor of your own cabin and threatened, perfectly seriously, to take your life right there and then… how could kismesissitude _not_ have been a thing that happened??

A rebellion has begun. It has begun, and… you really don’t know where you stand.

Half of your old friends are part of it. _Feferi_ is part of it and, although your desperate attempt at moirailship is very much over and has been for sweeps… you still fucking care about her and now, with your kismesis on the other side, you feel pressured from both sides to do something about it.

Either abandon your position or abandon your kismesis. It a fucking tough choice to make.

Nobody knows you know. Or at least, nobody else in the Fleet.

And now you’ve gone and done something which may well have ended both your position _and_ the ONE quadrant you’ve managed to hold down for more than a perigee.

You are _such_ a _fucking_ IDIOT!

So here you are in your cabin, flipping your royal shit, sincerely hoping that no one heard the extremely loud shouting match that took place less than and hour ago and praying to a god you don’t believe in that Tav hurries up and answers your messages _soon_.

Although you think he must be taking his time on purpose. It’s the sort of thing _you_ would do to him.

And in all the time you’re waiting, you are steadily digging yourself deeper into this mess you’re brought down onto yourself. He… he planned it somehow, didn’t he?! Just to get under your skin and try to wheedle you onto his side! Well, _screw him!_

This relationship won’t work. It never _would have_ worked. Vision either cleared or obscured by the panic that grips your mind, you turn back to your computer and mash at the keyboard for the final time.

CA: FUCK YOU, filthblood! wwe are DONE!

You send and then, for what feels like a very long time… just stare numbly at the screen as all the anger drains out of you, leaving nothing but a hollow sense of idiocy behind.

Why did you just do that? Why did you think it would be a good idea?

You can’t un-send it. It’s there forever now, and your battered pride just isn’t going to stand an attempt at an apology…

It’s probably for the best. Things weren’t working out _at all_. Or at least, that’s what you frantically tell yourself as you continue to be transfixed by those words, horror slowly beginning to creep up your spine.

‘Took you long enough.’ You’re grappling for your gun before you even register who the voice belongs to. Someone is _in the room with you_ and is _behind_ you and has _probably just witnessed your entire freakout_.

Thank fuck you don’t actually _fire_ the damn thing. Then you really _would_ have lost a quadrant.

Tavros has that slight tilt to his lips that means he can’t quite decide whether he’s furious or amused. He is also looking at your from one of the ventilation ducts which is now missing its cover, chin propped on one hand.

_Holy fucking shit he was in there the whole time wasn’t he??_

You keep the gun trained on him, if just for show and not anything else. He knows that it’s probably just for show and not anything else. Tavros grips the edges of the pipe and heaves himself forwards, sliding out into a none-too-graceful roll. How he ever fit in their in the first place is a mystery to you, with those fucking horns.

He smirks at you. You glare back. He offers out his hand in a mocking sort of way.

‘You coming?’ he asks.

‘Do I have a choice?’ you grumble, lowering you gun. Tav grins, and after a moment, you grin back.

It’s only been a few hours, but you missed this _so fucking much._

Now, you begin your life as an exile, shunned by the Empire, constantly on the run.

You will enjoy every second of it.


End file.
